GILDEON
Roselia took a long gulp of her tea. “I can’t believe you’ve got the nerve to ask me that, My Lord,” she seethed, glancing up from the table, throwing him a pointed look. “You made a deal with them behind my back, and I made peace with that. Yet now you need me to help them?”
Barky briefly stole his attention. The dog was sprawled out in the middle of the kitchen floor, front paws extended, hind legs tucked beneath him like a sphinx. His tail wagged in a slow, heavy rhythm, dark eyes fixed on Gildeon. Something about it felt off, unsettling, but he didn’t know much about Earthland’s domesticated animals, so it could be nothing.
Roselia spoke again, and his eyes flicked back to her. “You’ve no idea how much every single one of them,” she said, waving a hand toward the far window, “even Alaunus, would want me dead the first chance they get.”
“You’re part of the deal, Roselia,” he said, pinching the spot between his brows. “No one’s
ARAHShe had no idea what was about to happen, but she steadied herself, bracing for the worst. The guard glanced at the ceiling camera and raised a hand, signaling to someone unseen. Seconds later, the control panel lights buzzed and shifted from red to green. Her head whipped from side to side, scanning the block. There was no upper level, which was a relief. But with six doors on each side clicking open—except for the last three at the far end—the numbers were still overwhelming.Her pulse hammered in her ears. She flexed her left arm, ready to call on the power of her wind tattoo if things went sideways.She held her breath.Her skin crawled as the escort guard let out a deep, unnatural roar, something no human throat should be able to produce. What the hell was that? A chorus of growls erupted from the prisoners’ cells, as if they were responding to the guard. The collective sound sent a fresh chill down her spine.
ARAHCrystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow. Velvet curtains draped along the walls. The decorations were sophisticated yet outdated.“Where am I?” Arah whispered, glancing around. Stringmaster and the inmates were nowhere in sight. How had she ended up here? Drusden’s fog came to mind. Had she been caught in it again?This looked nothing like Shamibar. It couldn’t be another memory. This was still Earthland—but from a completely different time. People in tailcoats and ball gowns filled the room. Some were seated on plush chairs, others standing with glasses of wine, a few men with cigars between their lips.“My love, I have been cursed!” A woman’s voice rang out, drawing her attention to a small makeshift stage at the front of the room. It felt like a theater play, but with only one performer and a smaller, intimate audience. The room had a private air, as if it were part of a wealthy person’s home.
ARAHThe scene shifted to a cemetery. Arah watched as Marianne knelt before her mother’s tomb, fidgeting with a faceless doll in a worn dress. Marianne spoke about how she’d sometimes pretend her mama was in the doll—one that Anne had once owned. It was dirty now, nearly bald.Tears welled in Marianne’s eyes as she spoke about her work. Arah could feel the burden of it all, the pressure Edmond was placing upon her. She knew exactly what that was like.Marianne’s face clouded with sadness as she vented about how her papa would’ve been happier if she had been the one who died instead. “You should have lived, Mama,” she whispered, brushing dry leaves from the stone. “I should never have been born.”The words triggered something in Arah, a familiar ache tightening in her chest. Though she couldn’t remember the exact details, she knew she had once said and felt something similar—that she should’ve been the one who died. That Siegfrid and Irmee
ARAHShe was transported to a lavish party at a big house that didn’t belong to Marianne and her father. The air was filled with chatter and laughter. Couples danced in the spacious center of the room as violins and cellos played in the background. Women talked about fashion and jewelry, while the men were engrossed in serious discussions about business and war.In the corner, she spotted Marianne, drinking alone, fully aware of the other women gossiping about her—women who once fawned over her to be friends. Arah pursed her lips. She hated those types of people.“I cannot believe Madame invited her,” one woman commented in a shrill voice. “She is nothing but a faded glory now. No one cares for her anymore.”“If she possessed even a shred of decency,” added another, “she would not dare show her face in society any longer.”Even men would quietly advise one another not to ask Marianne to dance. Some even deliberately avoided walking
ARAHDark Plane.This was one of those moments where the word felt familiar... like it was right there on the edge of her memory, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t grasp it completely.Drusden continued explaining to Marianne the two types of witches and how a human could cross over to that other dimension and receive a gift. It was different for everyone, he said, and there was always a cost. No one knew what that price would be until after what he called a ‘cosmic trade’ was officially made.Arah wondered what the Dark Plane was like. Just the name itself evoked a sense of evil and danger. Could sylphs and salamanders travel there too? Would they also gain additional power?“How am I supposed to cross this...” Marianne gestured vaguely, a slight frown forming on her face. “Dark Plane you speak of?”“You cross it as you would cross any other place, woman.” A raspy voice echoed from the shadows at
ARAHCould he see her? How? She held her breath, not daring to move. Even as he inched closer, her body stayed locked in place. Her lips trembled, her mind racing between trying to make sense of the situation and figuring out what to do if he decided to attack or something.Zephyr’s thick brows furrowed, his indigo eyes so close they seemed to pierce straight into her soul. He lifted a hand, then stopped, his fingers just a breath away from touching her curls. Arah’s stomach clenched with fear. It felt like this had all happened before.“They say time and space bend differently in the ruins of Yonah’s Temple,” he whispered, his voice making her heartbeat quicken even more. “Strange thing, it is.”“What is happening, My Lord?” Drusden asked from behind.“Little Rabbit.”Arah blinked, the words making the back of her neck prickle.Zephyr’s lips twitched, caught between a smile and a chuckle. His eyes scanned her face, t
ARAH“Leave my mind, sylph!” Marianne’s distorted voice echoed in Arah’s ear, and an intense tingling sensation shot from her feet upward, stealing her breath for a moment.Her mind snapped back to the sight of the cell. A force slammed into her like a kick to the stomach, hurling her across the room. Her back collided with the wall, a groan tearing from her throat. Her muscles and bones ached, and a sharp ringing settled in her ears. Disoriented, it took her a few seconds to regain her senses. She cringed as something sticky clung to her hair—she was inches from the toilet, which reeked of piss and leftover excrement.Gagging, her head throbbed with the sound of fists battering against the steel door, growls and curses filling the air. Her wind tattoo coiled around the slit in the door, keeping it shut.Stringmaster stood across the stinking cell, fists trembling at her sides as if all her emotions had gathered there. Arah looked at the
ARAHMore than anything, that was what intrigued her the most. “Why is a sylph helping witches on Earthland?” She still couldn’t make sense of it. Sylphs were supposed to be protectors of humanity... guardians against supernatural and interdimensional threats. That was their purpose, their life mission. Why would one be helping a human gain powers by accessing a hostile dimension that even higher mortals wouldn’t dare venture into?It reminded her of what Gildeon had once told her about a group of sylphs stationed on Earthland by the Shining Keeper. They were soldiers tasked with eliminating threats to lower mortals and maintaining the balance of power within Earthland.Hunters.They were built differently from the Shamibar sylphs.Was Zephyr one of them? But something else was off about him, something unnatural that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And then there was that odd sense of familiarity. Had she heard of him back in
ARAHRoselia hadn’t been able to remove the bullet, but she managed to stop the bleeding, prevent further damage, and numb the pain. Mabel’s friend would still need to be taken to a hospital for proper treatment. Roselia explained that if she tried to heal her using supernatural methods and alter her memory at the same time, it could cause unpredictable side effects.Mabel’s friend had fallen unconscious. They bandaged her wound and gently moved her to the couch. Cora brought over a blanket and draped it over her.“W-What are we going to do with them?” Mabel’s sister asked, staring at the three corpses lying across the living room.Arah handed her a glass of water. “I think it’s better to leave them as they are. The police will take care of it.” She figured the authorities would arrive soon, especially if they believed Sharko’s gang had already finished whatever they came here to do.Thug Number Two would be a problem. He’d definitely run back to Sharko and report what happened. Then
ARAHShe had a narrow window before any sudden movement might make one of the thugs pull the trigger out of pure reflex.Or panic.Before she even realized it was possible, her wind tattoo split into two. One lash coiled tightly around the ankle of the thug who was about to assault Mabel’s sister, dragging him down. He hit the floor face-first with a grunt, arms flailing to catch himself. The other streaked across the room and smacked the gun from the hand of the man holding Cora.Arah bolted down the stairs, snatching the fallen gun mid-run, and aimed the gun at Thug Number One. She’d never held one before and had no real idea how to use it. But she’d seen enough movies to get the general idea.Still, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. To her, manmade weapons felt far more volatile than anything supernatural.She saw Cora grab a coat rack from the corner and swing it hard at the back of Thug Number One’s head. The man let out a stunned grunt, stumbling forward from the blow. He turn
ARAHThug Leader motioned to his men to let the girls go, but then pointed at Mabel, her sister, and the girl who’d offered Arah a cocktail earlier.“Those three, and of course, Cora—they all stay.”He turned back to Arah, sneering, probably waiting for her to object. But she stayed silent. He seemed like the egotistical maniac type. If she pushed him too far, he’d only make things worse.Arah settled for glancing at the girls as they whimpered, shuddered, and ran out of the house.“Don’t you dare snitch, or we’ll come after you,” one of the thugs growled, stepping aside and pointing his gun at each of them as they passed.Arah hated how calm they all looked. Like they weren’t worried at all that the girls might bring help. It said even more about the kind of power Sharko’s gang held over the island.“Now…” Thug Leader lifted her chin with the muzzle of his gun. “You said you’d give me a night I’d never forget?”“I need assurance they won’t be harmed,” she said carefully, nodding towa
ARAHShe stared at the lifeless body of the male stripper, sprawled out across the unfurled cardboard box. Blood seeped from the bullet wound in his back. He’d tried to run after the thug leader warned him not to.And they killed him. Just like that.To scare the hell out of them even more, the thugs had dragged his corpse back into the house—for everyone to see. It looked eerie under the strobe lights.The room was tense. The music was still playing, but one of the thugs had turned the volume down. All the girls were huddled together in the living room, clutching at each other like their lives depended on it. Some were curled up on the couch, the others slumped on the floor with their knees drawn to their chests. Everyone was shaking and crying. No one said a word.Their phones had been taken, so there was no way to call for help—unless, of course, Mabel’s call to the police had gone through.One of the thugs paced behind them, gun in one hand, a slice of strawberry cake in the other
ARAHShe leaned against the chair, staring out at the dark stretch of sea. The waves lapped softly at the shore. Their rhythm tangled with the thump of club music and the high-pitched laughter of girls still partying inside the house.It all felt far away now.After that embarrassing moment in the living room, Cora had pulled her out. She was grateful for the breather.Mate. Bride. Little Rabbit—these words looped in her head like some bad joke.Had she imagined the whole thing? Maybe there was something weird in the cocktail she drank. Or maybe it was Barky’s bite, twisting her thoughts most strangely.Why Zephyr, though? Had she personally known him before? Back in Shamibar?Arah slid her hands down her face and let out a heavy exhale. She couldn’t picture herself ever being close to someone like him. Zephyr was dangerous—she knew that much. And whatever his game was, it didn’t involve good intentions. He wanted to raise an army for goodness sake.Behind her, the back door creaked o
ARAHShe barely recognized Cora’s house. Penis-shaped balloons were scattered everywhere, and strobe lights flashed so intensely they nearly blinded her. The music was so loud it made her ears ring. Good thing Cora lived far enough from the neighbors that no one would care, even if the guests started screaming at each other in the middle of the night.There were probably over a dozen ladies here—her, Mabel, Cora, and a handful of others Arah vaguely remembered from the engagement party.Mabel was dancing near a giant pink gift box wrapped in ribbon, right in the middle of the living room. When she spotted Arah, her eyes lit up.“Arah!” Mabel shouted, turning toward the other side of the room. “Sissy Cora, she’s here!” Then she pranced over, cocktail in hand, wobbling just slightly. Her tiara was crooked, and she adjusted it before leaning in to give Arah a double-cheek kiss.“Hey, quite a party you’ve got going on,” Arah said with a smile, handing over her gift. She glanced at the pin
ARAHShe checked herself in the mirror, smoothing down the pink dress covered in little floral prints—it matched the theme for tonight. It was her first time going to a bachelorette party, and everything she knew about them came from movies.And in those movies, there were usually male strippers.She’d asked Mabel if there’d be any. Mabel had just giggled and said “no” over the phone, but in that coy way that didn’t really feel like a no.That made her a little nervous.Arah wondered how Gildeon would take it if he found out she went to a party where half-naked men were out there flaunting their abs and grinding to some sexy music. Would he be annoyed? Jealous? Pissed?The thought made her smile as she stepped out of her room and passed by the study. She paused at the door, resting her hand against it, picturing Gildeon inside—still in his cocoon, still asleep.The first time he’d finally let her in, she hadn’t known what to expect. The study room had felt weird. Empty, no furniture,
ARAHShe slipped the cardstock with her printed Clover Wish design out of the binder, tore it into pieces, and dropped them into the bin. Then she pulled out a few more flash sheets—ones with patterns that looked a little too much like real sigils—and tossed those out too.She couldn’t risk setting something off again and starting another coven war.A month had passed since the incident. Life on Caylao Island had returned to normal, as if nothing strange had ever happened. The townspeople had been spared that horrific memory thanks to Roselia’s bewitching fog. If it hadn’t been for that, Arah likely would’ve lost her friends too after they found out she wasn’t human.She looked up at her friends gathered in the waiting area, swapping theories about what really happened at Baccayo Prison that night.“I heard Sharko’s gang was involved,” Mabel said, swirling her straw in her milk tea. “Maybe they tried to break out some of their old members.”Tonio grimaced, mid-chew on a massive bite o
GILDEONThey brought Arah to Roselia’s farmhouse. She was still out cold, and it would likely take her a few days to recover. Roselia had set up the back room, lit herbs that filled the air with sharp smoke, and circled Arah with crystals humming with healing energy.Gildeon switched on his dragon sight. Arah’s aura flickered, blue-green, faint. But something else swam through it—streaks of deep, electric blue that came and went like a second heartbeat.Gildeon hadn’t seen that on her before, but maybe they were remnants of some buried power. Something that had awakened when her life hung by a thread—something she’d used to wipe out both Zylas and Drusden.The aftermath of that fight still gnawed at him in strange ways, but none of it mattered for now. Answers could wait. He’d talk to Arah when she woke up.Gildeon pulled the blanket over her shoulders, then glanced at Ghulik, who was curled on a cushion near the bed, snoring like an old man, his belly swollen.Before leaving the Bacc